


crimson flower

by couriersexy



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: M/M, lit rally terrified about posting this one luv xx, more characters but those are the central ones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:01:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21925630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/couriersexy/pseuds/couriersexy
Summary: it is like hearing a snake sing an aria.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> aegestra phantom of the opera au... apologies for the horrendously uncreative title ;__; will be a miracle if i actually finish this...

Perhaps an abandoned opera house in a dark section of the imperial capital is the last place you’d expect to find Ferdinand von Aegir, heir to a fortune worth more than most could dream to make in their lifetime. 

Perhaps this wasn’t a normal situation, however.

Ferdinand took a moment to take in his surroundings once more. Truly, it’s been years since he’d seen the place and it has fallen into a quite a state of disarray. A passing thought echoes that neither ghost nor enchantress would have been pleased to see this. 

He supposes that thought would have been more welcome twelve years ago.

...... “Lot six hundred and sixty five.” And thus the auctioneer continues. 

For the past three hours or so the exasperated looking priest had been naming off various items that have yet to hold any sort of worth or meaning to Ferdinand. 

“A music box adorned with a black eagle, the tune still plays upon being wound...”

His hand shoots up. 

“50 gold!” 

The auctioneer calls once, twice, three times, and Ferdinand is handed a priceless relic for the cost of what would essentially have been earned back in mere seconds. 

“Lot six hundred and sixty six.” The man gestures to the chandelier in the corner, and, slowly but surely, Ferdinand is dragged into the recesses of a dusty, treasured memory.


	2. think of me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um 😳!! i meant to post a chapter a day but totally forgot to do one yesterday so ... here (frantically pushes this into the tag) we ferdithea 🥱... also i’ll post 2 chapters tonight so i can space out the story in a satisfying way ;///;

Ferdinand, for all his heroic words and boisterous energy, thought he’d never been so nervous as he was while waiting for Dorothea’s performance. In his own defense, he hasn’t seen the theatric girl in 10 years, and last time they’d met it had been a rather tear filled goodbye. 

If only he could be 12 years old again, worried only about what will be made for dinner rather than how he’ll carry on his father’s career. Alas. 

He’s brought starkly back to the moment by a soprano singing a horribly off-key note followed shortly by the man in the seat to the right of him sighing, saying something about how he “never quite will be able to trust that one...” 

Ferdinand doesn’t begin making notes on the stranger’s remarks until he realizes there was nobody in that seat when he arrived. 

He turns his head sharply and is greeted by the image of pale man dressed in black. The low lighting shadows his face and makes his sharp cheekbones look like canyons. Only then does he take note that he can’t even see the upper half of his face. 

“Ah! I am afraid I didn’t even see you enter. You should have made your presence clearer so I could have welcomed you.” his companion jumps, and Ferdinand realizes that maybe this man hadn’t even seen him. 

The strange man sighs, stands, and leaves as mysteriously as he had arrived. 

So much for introducing himself, he thinks. 

He isn’t given much time to dwell on this, however, as Dorothea soon begins her performance at last, and Ferdinand’s attention is most graciously drawn toward her and taken away from the ghostly man he just witnessed. 

Ferdinand remembers hearing how beautiful her voice had become these past few months she’d been performing, but nothing could have described it in words. It was akin to an angel, even better than Manuela, who was rumored to have taught Dorothea for some time before moving on to teach at some school in the center of Fodlan.

Regardless of whomever taught her, the performance leaves him star struck. So much so that when the performance ends, he finds himself waiting outside of her dressing room with a bouquet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really appreciate comments btw! i’m still very new to ao3 and trying to work my way around this place but uhm... ur kudos and comments have rlly given me serotonin


	3. think of me — part two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> electric boogaloo 
> 
> anyway once again thank u very much for comments or kudos i love them ... i have been consumed by writing this au also i finally got dimitri in feh please give me (couriersexy) a round of applause 🙏🏼

Ferdinand knocks three quick raps on the door and is given a resounding,”I’ll be there in a minute!” from inside. The jitters he had hours ago have returned with a vengeance which could not be beaten by nerves made of any earthly steel.

When he had initially arrived in the hallway which lead to this room, he ran into one Ingrid Galatea. She said something which seemed like a greeting before rushing off to “take care of that damned opera star”... Ferdinand supposed he should stay out of that drama. 

Back in the present, Dorothea has opened the door at last. 

“Ferdie? Is that you?” She exclaims.... he noted she looked tired, exhausted almost.

“Dorothea! I believe I am still quite the worker bee you called me in that letter you sent five years back! Though I am afraid I must confess it took quite the noble reach to get even a single seat tonight...” 

“Oh? Guess those stuffy people you praise so highly stole all of them. I’m honestly surprised to see you here though... I thought you’d be too busy to show up ever since you inherited the seat of prime minister.” 

Ferdinand nearly stumbles through his next sentence,”A-Ah? I thought you had heard the news? My father requested I pay a visit to Mittelfrank tonight shortly after I read your letter. He has decided to allow me to become a patron of the place.” 

For a moment Ferdinand catches a glimpse of the Dorothea he’s familiar with, he sees a fierce anger flash in her gaze before it’s covered by the joy he’d seen before he mentioned anything. Goddess, when had he become so bad at this...

“Ah, you don’t say, Ferdie...” she trails off,”Well! Ingrid and I made plans earlier, and I think you should come along! I know she’d be overjoyed to see you after so many years.” 

After some short parting words, Ferdinand leaves the hall to get the horses ready to leave. He realizes he’s been made a fool of only at that point, at which he turns on his heels and begins his walk back inside the opera house to get his coat and return home. 

On his way back, however, he steps over a piece of crinkled sheet music, torn at the edges and ancient looking. 

As he straightens back up he sees a glimpse of a cape as it whooshes around the corner, leaving behind nothing but the faint smell of candles.


	4. angel of music

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think the posting schedule will mostly be every other day from here on out ;___; apologies for the rocky start + 2 chapters in a single day last time... comments are appreciated as always !

The past few weeks have gone by in a blur and Ferdinand soon finds himself privy to yet another show where Dorothea takes the lead. Their friendship has begun to slowly simmer back to life, which has given Ferdinand insight into Dorothea’s endeavors. She’s recently told him about her relationship with Ingrid and they’ve begun having tea more frequently. 

Spending more time around this building has also given him the intriguing knowledge of hearing a rumor of a ghost. A man in all black who is never seen and only leaves behind notes or scraps of music if one is lucky enough to pique to his interest. Lucky, indeed, Ferdinand thinks as he sinks further into his seat. He’s been lurking around box five for the past four performances and has yet to catch so much as glimpse of the ghost. 

Just when he thinks about giving up on this escapade, the door opens. 

He feels the chilly air of the hallway fill into the room, giving way for the rush of the scent of wax candles with a faint tinge of roses — perhaps his guest thought of this as a special occasion?

Ferdinand turns sharply around in his seat and is greeted with the sight of a... man. 

His stature is slightly taller and he’s adorned in a completely black suit, there’s a long cape brushing against the floor and, once again, he cannot make out his face. 

“Ah! I was hopeful you would return. You seem to have—“ he’s cut off by the man closing the door.

But Ferdinand has never been one to be deterred so easily. He follows the ghost through the corridor, down the stairs, and directly into... Dorothea’s dressing room? Only then does he, foolishly, begin to question what exactly this man’s motivations may be.

His silence rewards him. The figure gracefully spins around to face him, “Lord Aegir. To what do I owe the... pleasure?” his voice is deep, almost scratchy. It carries an air of horror unlike any Ferdinand has dealt with in his years. 

“I could not help but return this music to you, though I am afraid I have no name to call you by, unless you would be satisfied with ghost or something similar.” Ferdinand is used to the unforgiving stature the man carries himself with, he’s seen it too many times in his father to not be prepared with a flowery line to respond with. And yet it seems, the ghost is capable of dancing in much the same way. 

“Keep it, Lord Aegir. I am afraid you will not have the fortune of meeting me again.” 

And with that, he disappears as coldly as he came in. And Ferdinand is left in an empty dressing room, clutching a single slip of paper to his chest.


	5. notes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again! （＾_＾） trying to slow things down right now as i want to make huberts reappearance dramatic && i want to really think about how i do so! thank u for reading as always ♡

Being greeted the next morning by a house full of servants running about and gossiping is perhaps not Ferdinand’s new favorite way of waking up, but the riveting note found on his balcony table is certainly quite interesting. 

“Dearest Sir Aegir, 

Our prior meeting was lamentable at best. I fear I did not extend my warmest hospitality and, lest I forget to mention, I would be most disheartened to leave any sort of unflattering impression on you. From the true opera owner, himself!

I regret to inform you that your dearest Dorothea (who shall not be overjoyed to hear this, I’m sure) will be playing the lead role once more in my most recent opera. I would include an invitation, but it seems you merely come and go as you please now that you’re a donor. 

Coldest regards, the ghost” 

Ferdinand takes notice that underneath the signature is a crossed out name, written in eloquent cursive. 

Though perhaps focusing on trivial details would be a waste given the news about Dorothea. Just who is this ghost? 

Ferdinand has never been one to second guess a gut feeling, evident within that he rushed directly to Mittelfrank almost as soon as he looked presentable.

Unfortunately he seems to have walked in on yet another argument between the opera house owners. Seteth, looking quite ruffled, seems to have been prattling on about a note he received to an exasperated Byleth. 

“What is all this commotion about?” Ferdinand greets.

Seteth whips around, “Ah! The man of the hour! It seems like your friend has been made the star again! This will bring in more awful reviews, I know it. If only my partner would realize the same thing!” The last part is said practically through gritted teeth, followed by a sigh from Byleth who holds up a note of his own.

“We received notes this morning. Ingrid’s mother says they’re from the ghost, and yet Seteth seems convinced you’ve sent them.” The accusation is passed on with a flat tone. 

“Well, I can swear to you that I have not sent you these. I actually received a letter of my own and was curious if you knew the origin of it, but it seems I have my answer...?” Ferdinand trails off and attempts to seem casual, as if Seteth had not just sounded as though he blamed him for the downfall of the opera house. 

Dorothea wanders into the room, followed by Ingrid seemingly guarding her from... something. 

“Please! The letter was obviously sent by that damned ghost!” She calls. Ingrid whispers something to her, spares a glance at the scene they’ve walked into, and then ushers her back into the practice room. Ferdinand finds the situation most curious. Dorothea acted as if she’d seen the ghost...

He’s snapped out of his thoughts by Manuela yelling something about her role having been taken and, oh, the misery of it, she wails. Her place as prima donna was something she was practically born into. 

Ferdinand is soon swept away by the maids ushering out any unwelcome guests as they prepare for tonights show. He idly wonders if the ghost is planning something.


	6. poor fool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy new year! 🎉 
> 
> one of my hopes for the year is absolutely to finish this fic up && just post on archive in general. either way — masquerade is coming up soon and i am so excited to write for that,

Against his own judgement, Ferdinand found himself seated in the opera house once more. 

Seteth had won after it all, it seemed, and Manuela was the star of the show after almost four months of no performances. He must have realized there would be a mistake in removing Dorothea completely, however, as she merely became a side character. Present for one act and then never seen again. He had all but killed her off. 

Ferdinand himself thought this was all rather foolish. The “ghost” really seemed to mean what he said, threats and all. 

Sure enough, as soon as Dorothea walks off stage, an echoing voice cracks through the quiet air of the opera house. The ghost yells something about how he instructed the house owners to leave his seat open — much to Ferdinand’s chagrin, he has to agree, he prefers the empty space to the currently filled box. 

Regardless, Manuela attempts to continue her performance. She gets only two lines in before she croaks. 

Her soprano voice can’t carry a single line soon enough, and she’s only croaking and coughing, and is ushered off-stage. Ferdinand thinks he hears the echo of laughter in the upper half of the house. It gives him a chill.

Seteth steps out on the stage. He takes a moment to calm the orchestra players before announcing that Dorothea will be taking over as the lead role after the ballet performance. 

Thus, he retreats off the stage and the curtain is lifted. The performance begins. 

Ferdinand has never truly been a fan of ballet. He will call himself a true patron of the arts and, yet, he never quite could understand the excitement behind it. He remembers his father off handedly mentioning he had to learn some form of dance (he would go on to learn ballroom dances in his early teens) as it is “unbecoming of the Aegir house to not be skilled”. 

Due to this he zones out for the most part, focuses on the set behind them before —

A body drops from the rafters, lifeless, and Ferdinand has never felt such a jolt of fear. 

Everyone around him is sent into a panicking fit, the dancers run off stage, the audience bolts out of the house. Ferdinand attempts to go out the front, but gets turned around and ends up on the stairs leading to the roof. 

Upon breaking out into the cold, winter air that defines Adrestia, Ferdinand finds himself nearly ten feet away from a brooding phantom.


End file.
